


real people

by spellingbee



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Action & Romance, Blanket Permission, First Meetings, Inspired by Music, Nonbinary Character, Other, POV Third Person Limited, Podfic Welcome, droid au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:54:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21621811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spellingbee/pseuds/spellingbee
Summary: While on a mission from Doctor D, Show Pony finds something unusual buried beneath the sand.
Relationships: Jet Star/Show Pony (Danger Days)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 33





	real people

**Author's Note:**

> Week 48! Just 4 weeks left........................
> 
> big thank you to my friend pink ([pinkstationhero](https://pinkstationhero.tumblr.com/) on tumblr) for beta-reading this!! 🌺
> 
> this was a request from my friend krys ([starman-trashcan](https://starman-trashcan.tumblr.com/) on tumblr), who wanted something based on a hozier song! my fiance suggested like real people do, so this came about!  
> i listened to that song on repeat the entire time i was writing this!!🎶
> 
> enjoy! 😘

The sands shift beneath aer skates, as they always do. The sun beats down on aer, on aer bare arms and bare face, scorching aer in just the perfect way. It’s bright today, bright as it is every day; the sand reflects the sun, blinding aer, but it’s okay. Pony always knows where ae’s going.

The buzzing of cicadas fills the air; crows cry in the distance. Far, far away, Pony can  _ just  _ hear the sound of motors, someone speeding down the road. Ae doesn’t know if the sound is friend or foe, but ae knows the desert better than anyone; even if they come close enough to be a threat, Pony’s confident ae can outmaneuver them.

Yesterday, a sandstorm prevented aer from travelling; today, ae has an important message to deliver to Doctor D. Ae won’t let anything distract aer from aer mission.

Pony’s skate strikes something sticking up from the sand, and ae barely catches aerself before toppling over.

Ae sits down heavily in the sand, startled; ae  _ never _ messes up when ae’s skating. Ae’s the  _ best _ , and ae  _ always _ knows what ae’s doing, where ae’s going.

Pony leans forward, running aer fingers through the sand to try and find whatever it was that tripped aer. The sand slides through aer fingers, gritty and hot, and then ae’s thumb strikes something solid.

It’s smooth, and it doesn’t feel quite like metal, too soft to be a rock. Ae pulls at the object, but it doesn’t budge.

Ae should just leave whatever it is and continue on aer journey, but… aer curiosity gets the best of aer. 

Ae leans forward more, to kneel on the ground, and digs feverishly into the sand. The sand slips and shifts, more spilling into the hole as ae digs, but Pony keeps at it, digging and digging until ae uncovers a good amount of the object.

It’s a hand.

A bolt of fear shoots through Pony, but ae shoves it back down and goes back to digging, moving faster and faster now. Ae can’t tell if it’s a real hand--a _ person’s _ hand--or just something made to look and  _ feel _ like a real person’s hand, but if it  _ is _ someone, ae can’t just leave them out here under the sands to die  _ (they’re already dead, _ a little voice whispers to aer,  _ if they’ve been buried since the sandstorm yesterday, there’s no way they could still be alive) _ .

Bit by bit, ae uncovers more and more. An arm, covered by the sleeve of a dark leather jacket. A torso, a head of thick, curly hair, full of sand and obscuring their face. 

When ae uncovers their other hand, ae stands and digs aer skates into the sand. Ae grips both their hands and pulls.  _ Pulls. _

The sand holds them steady, Pony straining against it, until suddenly it doesn’t, and Pony goes flying back, landing on aer ass once again, with the person landing on top of aer, knocking the wind from aer lungs.

Ae has no choice but to lie there for a long moment, struggling to pull air back into aer lungs.

The person atop aer doesn’t move, and ae knows it’s just as ae feared: they’re already dead.

Ae slides out from beneath them, rolling them gently onto their back. Ae’ll burn them, cremate them so BL/ind can’t take their body; that’s the way of the desert rebels.

Fighting back the sadness and lingering fear, Pony leans over them, brushing their hair back from their face to see if they have a mask ae can take to the nearest mailbox. 

Their eyes are open, and they are decidedly  _ not dead. _

Pony flings aerself backward with a yelp, narrowly avoiding falling on aer ass  _ again. _ “You’re alive!” Ae exclaims, and then mentally slaps aerself for stating the obvious. Ae moves forward again, crouches down beside them. Their eyes follow aer movements.

“Are you alright, darling?” ae asks, leaning in close. The skin of their face, ae notices, is a little scratched up, but there’s no blood showing on the tan skin. Their eyes shine brightly in the sun, a warm brown, but there’s sand packed into the corners of their eyes, their mouth.  _ How long were they buried in the sand, _ Pony wonders,  _ and yet they’re still alive? _

They don’t answer, just blinking at aer. They’re not even  _ breathing, _ as far as ae can tell!

“Can I help you?” ae asks, and then mentally slaps aerself  _ again _ because, of  _ course! _

Quickly, ae fumbles for the canteen at aer waist, popping it open and tilting it into their mouth. Most of it spills out, but not all of it; they cough, water and sand and what looks like  _ black sludge _ flying out of their mouth. 

They bolt upright, into a sitting position, and cough again; Pony puts an arm around their back, holding them steady as they hack sludge out onto the sand. There’s a soft  _ whirr _ ing sound, and a nearly-inaudible  _ click, _ and suddenly they’re breathing, a soft, steady rhythm. 

“Destroya,” Pony swears, patting their back and feeling extraordinarily stupid. “You’re a  _ droid. _ ” Ae’s voice can’t quite convey the relief ae feels with that knowledge, but it’s there. A droid lost in the desert is much easier to deal with than a dead body, than a dying rebel. Even if they’re still loyal to BL/ind. “Do you need anything else? Can I help you?”

“You already helped me,” the droid says, and their voice is deep, raspy; it sounds like they’ve got sand grating against their throat. They probably do.

“Yeah, but you’re not exactly at one hundred percent, are ya?” Pony glances down at aerself; ae really doesn’t have much here that could help a droid. Ae’s got aer canteen, aer delivery-pouch, aer raygun… ae  _ does _ have an extra battery for aer gun, but are those even compatible with droids’ systems? Pony has no idea; it’s much more difficult for a droid to leave Battery City than it is for a human, so there’s not exactly a plethora of droids for Pony to gather info from.

“I’ll be fine,” the droid says, and coughs again. More sand flies out of their mouth. “Thank you for your help. You didn’t have to pull me from the sand.”

“Well, once I knew there was  _ a person _ down there, I couldn’t just  _ leave _ you.” Pony glances at the position of the sun; shit. Ae gets to aer feet as quickly as ae can. “Damn, I’ve been out here too long! Gotta get to Doctor D’s before sunset. Sun’s already headed in that direction.” Ae looks down at the droid again, with their wide eyes and sand-caked hair. Ae can’t just leave them here, either, not after all that. “Can you stand?”

“Can I--? Oh.” The droid looks down at their feet, clad in dark boots. With hesitant motions, they shift, and get to their feet. 

Pony watches them carefully, but they seem steady enough. Ae nods, and smiles at him. “Perfect! Come on, then; we’re going to Doctor D’s.”

Ae turns and starts skating again, kicking sand out of aer wheels as ae goes. A moment later, ae hears footsteps in the sand, hurrying to catch up.

“Doctor D,” says the droid, and already they sound better, less raspy. Their voice is warm, with just the slightest electronic buzz beneath it. “Doctor D, like the radio guy?”

“The very same,” Pony says, pleased. “Got a message to deliver to ‘im, an’ there’s some people who live nearby that should be able to getcha patched up.”

“I’m fine,” the droid says, and he’s easily keeping pace with Pony, even without wheels.

“Still, need to getcha cleaned up,” ae says. “All that sand doesn’t look too comfy, darling.” Ae turns aer head, keeps aer eyes forward. “What’s your name, by the way? I’m Show Pony. Ae/aer pronouns, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh.” The droid is staying right by Pony’s side. “Um. I’m Jet. Jet Star. Uh, he/him.” He pauses, and Pony can tell he wants to say something else, so ae waits instead of trying to fill the silence. “Are you sure you want to bring me with you?” he asks. “You don’t even know anything about me.”

“I know a person who needs help when I see one,” Pony says. “And trust me, sugar, if you were gonna do somethin’ to me, I can defend myself pretty well.” 

“I’m not really a person,” Jet Star says, and then, before Pony can reply to  _ that, _ continues, sounding shocked, “And I would never!” Ae smiles.

“Exactly. So we’re gonna go to Doctor D’s, you’re gonna get all gussied up and make sure everythin’s runnin’ properly, an’ then we can getcha wherever you’re goin’. Assumin’ you’ve got somewhere to go, hm?”

He falls silent for another long moment. Something in his chest  _ whirrs _ again. “I don’t think so,” he says quietly. 

Pony’s heart might  _ break _ at how sad he sounds. It’s not as though heartbreak is unheard-of out here in the desert; famine and thirst are common, illness without access to proper medicine, BL/ind raids that take out entire gangs at once. Everyone’s lost someone; it doesn’t really surprise aer that this droid, Jet Star, might have, too.

“Were you with a gang?” ae asks. “A crew? Might be able to help ya find at least some part of ‘em.”

He’s quiet; the only sounds are those of his footsteps, their wheels. “No,” he says eventually. ‘It was just me.”

Pony tilts aer head to look at him, a lock of hair falling into aer eyes. His mouth is set in a thin line, and he’s staring straight ahead. He  _ did _ have a crew then, at some point. Or at least, he had  _ someone _ before getting buried out in the sand _. _

“I see,” ae says. “Well, then, you don’t have to worry! I’ll help you find someplace to stay, maybe getcha set up with a real crew out here. Hm? I know a few people who’d love another member!” 

He shakes his head. “No,” he says. “No, I--I think it’s best if I stay on my own. Once we get there, I mean.”

Pony isn’t quite sure how to respond to that. There are very few people who can make it on their own in the desert; a crew is an essential part of survival. Even Pony, who spends much of aer time travelling from point A to point B by aerself, has a home to go back to, friends scattered throughout the desert. 

But who knows what a droid can do alone. The don’t have to eat, they don’t need water; they only need batteries, which are easily obtained if you know where to look. Maybe droids are even better off on their own than with other people; Pony doesn’t know.

Still, Jet Star doesn’t seem like the type to very much enjoy being off on his own. He seems friendly, seems like he’s glad to be with Pony, at least for the time being. 

But what does Pony know? Nothing about droids, certainly.

The engine sounds ae’d noticed an hour or so ago are louder now. Pony hopes that isn’t a bad sign.

Ae turns aer head, scanning the area for a place to hide, listening to the motors. They’re on a flat strip of sand right now, the ground littered with cacti and scrub brush and low, sparse Joshua trees. The nearest dunes are too far to get behind if things go bad, and the nearest rock formations are even farther away.

If the vehicles ae can hear come any closer, and if they turn out to be BL/ind… well, they’re just going to have to fight.

“You got a gun, Jet Star darling?” Pony asks, and Jet Star startles, blinking at aer.

“No,” he says. “I did, but I--I lost it.”

Pony hums in response. “Do you have any other weapons on you?”

“No.” He thinks for a moment. “I could probably overload my battery and use myself as a taser if I needed to, but it’s not exactly a long-range weapon, and it’s not exactly a safe option, either.”

“Well,” Pony says, “hopefully it won’t come to that. Hopefully it won’t come to fighting at  _ all, _ honestly. But, if it does, duck behind the nearest object big enough to hide you, alright? And I’ll take care of everything.”

He shoots aer a worried glance. “Are you sure?” he asks. “That’s our only option?”

The engines are getting closer. Pony glances behind them, and ae can see a cloud of dust being kicked up somewhere behind them.   
“For now, we’re just gonna keep goin’.” Pony pulls aer hot pink ray gun from the holster at aer waist and holds it loosely in aer hand. If it’s BL/ind, ae’ll be able to get a couple shots off quick; if it’s fellow rebels, well, it’s still sometimes a good idea to let people know you’ve got a weapon handy. Ae faces forward again. “Lemme know if that car gets close enough for you to see, an’ whether it’s the good guys or the bad guys, wouldja sugar?”

“Right.” Jet Star seems uncomfortable, nervous. Pony can’t blame him.

They wonder, again, how long he’d been down in the sand; surely he was too deep for it to have been only a day or two, during that sandstorm. But it couldn’t have been  _ that _ long, right? He was still powered up, after all, and droid batteries  _ can’t _ have enough power to last more than a few weeks.

The vehicles sound much closer now, and Pony can hear wheels on sand, wheels on rock.

“It’s a white car,” Jet Star says. “I can’t tell if there’s any other colors, but it--it’s  _ very _ white.”

_ Shit. _ Unless it’s a recent grab and the ‘joys who took it haven’t had the time or supplies to fix it up, a white car means a ‘crow, at the very least. “Any motorcycles?” ae asks. Ae’s outrun and outmaneuvered ‘crows and Dracs alike, but that’s by  _ aerself; _ ae’s never had to watch out for someone else before, someone who didn’t have a gun or any other kind of weapon. 

“I can’t tell,” he says, “but there’s more than one vehicle.”

A crew with multiple vehicles would  _ definitely _ have the resources to paint their car. “Behind the cactus then, please.”

He whips his head around to look at aer. “I’m not just gonna leave you! One person against who knows how many BL/ind agents?”

“I’m not going to fight them,” ae says, as calmly as ae can. “I’m going to run away. And I need  _ you _ to hide somewhere until I can get away an’ loop back to getcha.”

“I can keep up with you,” he says, but he sounds doubtful. 

“No ya can’t, sugar.” Ae shoots him aer best, slyest grin. “No one can.” 

He blinks at aer, eyes wide, and then gives a small, quick nod. “Alright. I’ll hide. But come back soon, yeah?”

Ae beams at him. “I will! Do I get a kiss for luck?”

Jet Star startles. “A--? Uh.” He falters in his step, and Pony can’t help but laugh a little at him.

“I’m just teasin’, Jet Star. Go on, get behind a cactus or whatever! I’ll be back in, like, half an hour  _ tops.” _

“Fine.” Jet Star shoots another look at aer, and then he dives off the sandy path, running out among the desert plantlife.

Pony focuses aer attention on the road ahead, sticking to the same speed. Ae knows ae can’t outpace a gasoline-powered engine for long, so ae doesn’t try. Ae doesn’t look over into the plants to see if Jet’s hidden himself properly; ae just has to trust that he’s done so and continue on.

It’s only when the engines are close enough that ae  _ knows _ whoever’s driving can see aer that ae skates over to the side of the road. Ae spins around and faces the car, grip tightening on aer ray gun just as a laser blast scorches the air beside aer ear.

Pony fires back immediately, barely aiming for the car, and then turns again and starts skating off into the plants, in the opposite direction ae’d seen Jet run off toward. The car won’t be able to follow aer, and ae can go faster on aer skates than most people--excluding droids, apparently--can go on foot.

The car starts to follow aer, driving over scrub brush and smaller cacti and the like, before the engine cuts out and the doors open. Pony weaves aer way through the trees and cacti, putting as much distance between aer and them as possible, ducking in and out of sight.

Confusing them is easy. If ae can get to the right spot, ae can fire on them, keep them from doing harm to anyone else out here in the desert.

“Hey, you!” calls a voice, muffled by a mask; it must be a Drac. “Stop where you are! We have orders to bring all rebels in for re-education!”

It’s the same thing ae hears anytime BL/ind sends their bastards out here; it’s a lie. If a killjoy stops and lets themselves get taken into custody, more often than not the Drac will just kill them anyway. And even if it weren’t a lie, there’s no way Pony’s going back to that sterile, unfeeling  _ prison _ to live out the rest of aer days with the wrong name, the wrong pronouns, the wrong  _ everything. _

Ae ducks into a thick growth of brush and trees and peers cautiously out.

Ae can see two cars from here; one parked haphazardly among the plants, the other parked neatly in the road.  _ Fuck. _ An exterminator, then.

Where  _ is _ the exterminator? Ae can see two Dracs wandering around, clearly looking for aer, but that’s it. Is the ‘crow still in the car? Why?

Ae lifts aer ray gun up and fires on one of the Dracs; it strikes them right between the eyes of their mask, and they go down. 

The other Drac turns at the sound and starts running toward Pony’s hiding spot, but they fall as easily and quickly as the first had.

Where’s the other driver? Where’s the ‘crow? How many Dracs were there? 

Pony takes another look around, glancing behind aer and to either side, but there’s no sign of anyone else. Something’s up.

Ae’s going to have to take a risk.

Slowly, cautiously, Pony stands up from aer hiding spot and moves forward, toward the cars. Ae keeps aer gun trained on the car parked in the road, but there’s no movement. 

It’s not until Pony gets to the hood of the first car that ae can tell that the second car is empty.

Where  _ are _ they?

Ae hears a yelp in the distance, and aer blood runs cold.

_ Jet Star. _

Ae takes off again, urging aer skates to move faster, faster; ae goes back down the road, back to where ae’d last seen Jet Star. The desert’s so quiet, so empty. The desert’s  _ never _ empty.

There! A flash of white in the distance, to the left of aer. That must be the ‘crow.

Ae turns on aer heel and shoves aerself forward. Ae’s got to get to the ‘crow before the ‘crow gets to Jet Star. The only weapon he has is himself, and ae’s not going to be the reason he gets hurt.

“You need to return to the city for reprogramming,” ae hears the ‘crow saying as ae gets closer. “Droids are not permitted past Battery City walls! You could be damaged out here in the desert!”

“I’m not going back,” Jet Star says, and there’s an edge of panic in his voice. Do droids feel panic? They must.

Pony lifts aer gun in aer hands. Ae has a clear shot at the ‘crow, but killing a ‘crow is harder on the conscience than killing a Drac: the person behind the Drac mask is already dead, in all the ways that matter, but a ‘crow is still just a person.

And so ae hesitates.

The ‘crow, seemingly unaware of Pony’s presence, reaches forward and grabs Jet Star’s arm. Jet Star yanks his arm away, and the ‘crow presses her own gun to his temple. 

Pony fires off a shot. Jet Star convulses. The ‘crow drops to the ground, smoking.

Jet Star collapses right after her, and Pony can’t contain the  _ “Jet Star!” _ that erupts from aer throat. Ae nearly drops aer gun, but just manages to keep aer grip on it, rushing forward. 

Ae falls to aer knees at Jet Star’s side. His limbs are trembling, and there’s some sort of  _ sparking _ noise coming from inside him. “Jet Star,” ae says, unsure of whether or not it’s safe for either of them to put aer hands on him, “are you alright? What happened?!”

“Overloaded my battery,” he says, voice coming out staticky and strange. “Just gotta--get some power back.”

“Will you be okay?” Ae asks, biting aer lip. He  _ really  _ doesn’t look like he’ll be okay. “I have a spare battery! For my ray gun! Would that help you at all?”

“No, I--hold on.” He opens his mouth, closes it. Flexes his fingers. Open, close. Open, close. The trembling in his limbs quiets down, and then stops. He flexes his fingers again, faster, and then sits up. The sparking sound is gone now, too. 

“Damn,” Pony says. “Are ya all good now, sugar?”

Jet Star looks at aer and nods. “That was my backup battery,” he says. “I’m running solely on kinetic energy now.” He looks over at the ‘crow on the ground and shudders. 

“Death’s never a pleasant thing,” ae says, standing and offering aer hand to help him up. 

“I hope I never get used to it,” Jet says, getting to his feet. “Thanks for your help, though.” He gives aer a smile--a little thing, still a little tentative around the edges, but it’s  _ beautiful. _ Aer heart does a little flip in aer chest, and ae beams back. 

“Of course, darling. I told you I’d help you.” Ae reaches down and takes his hand in aers, squeezes it. “Come on, then. We still have a ways to travel.”

Jet squeezes aer hand in return, and they continue on.

\-----

The rest of the journey is much less eventful. Pony doesn’t uncover any other people buried in the earth, doesn’t come across any other cars; doesn’t come across anyone else at all. It’s just Pony and Jet, traversing the sands at a quick pace. 

Jet doesn’t say much about where he came from, or why he was in the ground, and Pony doesn’t ask. It seems to aer that he has secrets he wants to keep, and though Pony’s intrigued, ae respects that.

Still, Pony’s never been a very big fan of silence, so ae fills it the only way ae knows how: by talking about aerself.

“Busted outta the city when I was just a baby, ya know? Twelve years old! Lucky I bumped into Doctor D early on. Twelve’s  _ much _ too young to be runnin’ ‘round out here alone. Twelve’s too young for a lotta things, really, but it’s one of those ages when everything starts to change. Twelve’s the age I was when I realized a lotta things, about myself an’ about the city an’ about a  _ lotta _ things, hm? So twelve’s the age I was when I left.”

“You were a child,” Jet says, when ae pauses for breath. “This is a hard life for a child.” He pauses, and Pony thinks maybe he’s about to volunteer some relevant bit of information about himself, but instead he asks after a moment, “So how  _ did _ you meet this… Doctor D?”

Ae smiles. “I was looking for a place to stay, and food to eat. Kinda scroungin’ around, ya know, lookin’ through garbage an’ what have ya for anythin’ useful. An’ Doctor D happened to be passin’ by, on some mission or other, an’ saw me diggin’ around, an’ he pulled me outta the dirt--not literally, m’kay darlin’, this isn’t a full-circle story--an’ he helped me find a crew to run with.”

Pony pauses, flashing a grin at Jet, who’s watching aer intently. Ae looks ahead again, willing aer heart to calm down. “Anyway,” ae says, “anyway, so, I ran with this crew for a while, learned how to make it in the desert. Then, a few years later--I was fifteen, almost sixteen--I had a fallin’ out with two-thirds’a the crew and got left without a home again.”

“They kicked you out?” Pony doesn’t turn to look at him again, but Jet sounds confused. “What happened?”

“I don’t really wanna go into it,” Pony says, shoving bad memories to the back of aer mind, “so let’s just say that I was an eager-to-please teenager, and the members of this crew were all adults who weren’t as nice as Doctor D had thought.”

“Oh,” says Jet, and Pony can practically hear the gears turning in his head as he processes the information.  _ “Oh. _ That’s awful. I’m glad you got away from that. Does… does that happen often out here?”

“Not really,” Pony says, as reassuringly as ae can; Jet sounds worried now. Ae doesn’t blame him; ae doesn’t know what sort of tasks he was built for, but BL/ind doesn’t give synthetic skin and long hair to  _ all _ their droids. “Most people won’t tolerate that sorta thing, ya know. No one’s gonna hold it against ya if you kill--or at least grievously injure--someone like that.” Ae shrugs, keeping aer eyes on the road ahead. Jet must have still been pretty new to the zones when he got stuck in the sand. 

“Anyway,” ae says again, “so I was alone again. Not a great situation, ‘specially out here, but Doctor D offered me a job and a place to stay! And I’ve been doing this ever since.”

“Oh.” Jet still sounds a little anxious about the previous topic still, but he seems to be calming down again. “What is ‘this,’ then? What’s your job?”

“I’m a runner,” ae says. “Supplies gotta get from point A to point B? Messages too sensitive to broadcast over the radio? You name it, I’ll deliver it.” Ae pats the delivery pouch at aer waist. “That’s what I’m doin’ right now, in fact! Gettin’ a message to Doctor D, all the way from some rebels in Battery City themselves!”

“Wow,” Jet says. “That’s a long way to go. Do you always go everywhere on your skates?”

“Sure do, hot stuff! Been skatin’ since I got outta the city, an’ I like to think I’ve gotten pretty decent at it.” That’s a  _ deep _ undervaluing of Pony’s skills, of course; ae knows ae’s the  _ best _ skater out here. It’s no easy feat to be able to skate on loose sand at  _ all, _ let alone as elegantly and effortlessly as Pony does it.

Jet seems to echo aer thoughts.  _ “Decent?” _ he asks, his voice pitching higher and picking up a little more of that electronic buzz. “I think you’re  _ more _ than decent.”

Ae laughs. “Why, thank you. I’ll admit it, then; I  _ am _ the best. And I love it! I never take my skates off unless I have to. Walking just doesn’t  _ feel _ right anymore; I have to be  _ gliding.” _ There’s a shape up ahead, starting to take form in front of them; Pony squints at it, and a spike of joy shoots through aer. “Almost there, Jet Star darling! Look--see that building up ahead?” Ae points. “That’s Doctor D’s shack!”

“Really?” Jet doesn’t sound too enthusiastic, but neither does he sound put out. “Wow. I thought it would take longer to get here.”

Pony gestures toward the sun, which is low on the horizon now. “Time flies when you’re havin’ fun, I suppose.” Ae glances over at Jet, and sees him looking at aer, his mouth stretched into a smile, something  _ soft _ in his eyes.  _ Destroya, _ but Pony’s already gone on him.

Ae clears aer throat and looks away again, back toward Doctor D’s. “Anyway, once I get this message to Doctor D, we can--well. Hm. Do you need to sleep at all? Or recharge in some way?”

“I recharge by moving, not by resting,” Jet says. “But I’ve got enough power stored right now that it won’t be a problem if I stand still while  _ you _ rest.”

“Good to know. I’m going to  _ need _ a rest, that’s for sure. We’ll have to get you all sorted out tomorrow, I’m afraid.” Pony says the last few words on a sigh.

“I think I’ve got some ideas,” Jet says, softer than his previous words, and Pony glances over at him again. There’s a look in his eyes, a look that Pony  _ knows, _ but ae can’t really put words to it. Isn’t sure if ae  _ should _ put words to it.

“Pony!  _ There _ ya are!”

Pony’s skates stutter in the sand, and ae nearly trips-- _ Pony _ nearly  _ trips _ over aer skates!--but Jet cates aer, fingers closing over aer arm.

Doctor D’s sitting in his ancient power chair at the edge of the tight-packed dirt that serves as his road in and out of here. He waves. “Expected ya back yesterday,” he calls.

“That’s Doctor D,” Pony tells Jet. Jet nods, and releases aer arm once ae’s got aer footing back. “C’mon, lemme introduce ya!” 

“Okay.” 

Doctor D watches intently as the two of them make their way over to him. “Sorry, D,” Pony says, skating to a stop. “Sandstorm blocked me out, best I could do was today.” Ae slips aer hand into aer delivery pouch and passes him a tightly-folded sheet of paper. “Should be safe enough to send someone out tomorrow, if that’s what ya gotta do.”

“Shiny. Thanks, Pony.” Doctor D tucks the paper into one of his many pockets and turns his gaze to Jet Star. “I see you’ve made a friend, huh? You don’t look so good there, kid. A droid, right? Looks like you’ve been out in the sand a while.”

Jet nervously tugs at a lock of his sand-crusted hair. “I guess you could say that,” he says. “Uh, I’m Jet Star. Nice to meet you.”

Doctor D hums in response, studying him for a moment. “You need to get cleaned up. Hold on, got a couple friends ‘round right now who can help ya with that.”

Jet straightens up, clearly alarmed. “Oh, no, that’s alright, I can wait, I’ll just--”

But Doctor D’s already turning his chair around toward his shack and calling, “Kobra! Ghoul! Get out here, got a job for ya!”

Pony puts aer hand on Jet’s arm and squeezes lightly, heart flipping again when he turns to aer. “Don’t worry,” ae says, giving him a reassuring smile, “Kobra’s a friend. He and his pet gremlin will getcha fixed right up.”

“His pet--?” Jet shakes his head. “No, it’s--I don’t need anyone fussing over me. I’ll be fine.”

“Jet Star, darling, you were buried in the sand for  _ who _ knows  _ how _ long, you practically  _ blew yourself up _ , destroying your battery in the process, your skin is scratched up, and you have  _ sand _ coating  _ every strand _ of your hair,  _ and _ in your eyes.” Ae squeezes his shoulder again. “It won’t be a problem for them to look you over. I promise.”

Jet hesitates a moment, eyes searching, but then he smiles a little, and he nods. “Okay,” he says. “Alright, I--yeah. That’d probably be for the best.”

Pony’s already grown to love Jet’s smile; aer heart leaps in aer chest. “Good, then.” Ae trails aer hand down his arm to grip his hand. He glances down at their joined hands, and then back up, smiling; Pony squeezes his hand and turns, tugging him toward the shack.

Kobra’s standing just inside the doorway, and when Pony pulls Jet inside, Kobra gives him an appraising once-over. “You’ve had a hell of a day,” he says. “Shove your head in the sand?”

“Something like that.” Jet tilts his head, opens his mouth to say something else, but then he freezes, gazing over Kobra’s shoulder at something deeper in the room. “Georgie,” he says, and pulls his hand free of Pony’s, rushing inside.

Pony can only watch in confusion as Jet pushes past Ghoul and Party both, without even a nod of his head or acknowledgement of any kind, and goes straight to the Girl.

“Georgie,” he says again. “You made it. You’re  _ alive.” _

The Girl throws her arms over Jet’s shoulders with a noise of  _ glee, _ and something clicks in Pony’s mind. 

“Oh, shit,” Ghoul says.  _ “This _ is the guy who brought you outta the city, Girlie?”

“Yeah! This is him, this is Starman!” 

The Girl had told them all about how she’d left the city, two years ago when Doctor D had found her out in the desert and brought her to these three to raise; how she’d been desperate to escape, and how someone had put their life on the line to get her away from BL/ind and the people who wanted her so badly, for whatever reason. How that person had  _ lost _ their life in a firefight, sacrificing themself to get her to safety.

He hadn’t died, though, apparently; just been stunned, maybe, or immobilized somehow, and left for the desert to claim.

Pony’s heart swells in aer chest, sadness and thankfulness and  _ love _ filling aer up. 

“Well,” ae says, more than a little choked up, “I guess you don’t have to worry about finding a crew to run with, hm?”

Jet turns his head, then gently pulls himself from the Girl’s grasp and stands to face Pony. “No,” he says, lips stretching into a smile, “No, I don’t think I will.”

He covers the distance between them in two strides, reaching up to cradle Pony’s face in both his hands, and oh- _ -oh- _ -Pony falls in love so easily.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, and Pony answers by leaning up to press aer lips to his.

Kissing a droid isn’t quite like kissing a human, especially when the droid’s still covered in sand after being stuck in the dirt for two years, but kissing  _ Jet _ is a very good experience that more than makes up for the grittiness.

It’s not a very long kiss, and when Jet pulls away, Pony follows him, keeping aer lips just a hair’s breadth from his.

“So,” ae murmurs, “I take it you’ll be stickin’ around, honey?”

“Definitely.”

He kisses aer again.

**Author's Note:**

> this was honestly so much fun to write! when ace suggested this song, i immediately knew i wanted to make jet a droid stuck in the sand. i actually.....really wanted to make this longer with more plot points, but i had to leave it as a one-shot so i could work on other things, too. i hope it doesn't feel too rushed. :')
> 
> if you enjoyed this fic, please feel free to leave kudos or a comment! i'd love to hear your thoughts!  
> also, feel free to visit me on tumblr! [enby-partypoison](https://enby-partypoison.tumblr.com/) 💖💖💖


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